Legacy
by iStellaris
Summary: Post-DMC 5. A series of one-shots centered around the major players of Devil May Cry 5 and their lives after the Redgrave incident, which may or may not involve Sparda family bonding, crazy parties, and all manner of wild shenanigans that only the DMC gang can get themselves into. Spoilers for all the games in the series will be present, especially for DMC 5.
1. Mission 1

"Man, I'm beat."

It was already past seven in the evening when the Devil May Cry van pulled into the orphanage's garage. A simple "extermination" contract didn't usually take five hours and a wild goose chase around Fortuna to complete, especially when a demon hunter as skilled as Nero was on the case, but simple extermination jobs didn't usually involve a senile old lady thinking that a Hell Caina was her son, either. That was a problem that neither Red Queen or Blue Rose could solve. The young demon hunter surmised that Morrison, the sneaky bastard, probably passed it on to them as an "extermination" since no one and their mother wanted to do it for reasons that became clear as Nero grappled his way through the rooftops of the city in pursuit of a runaway demon that definitely refused to be an old lady's eldest son named "Charleston".

Several months have passed since Nero had learned of his true heritage as an illegitimate member of Sparda's bloodline, stopped yet another demonic invasion with his ever-reliable Uncle Dante, and met the father he never knew he had: Vergil. The Alpha and the Omega. He still didn't know what to feel about his "pops" suddenly coming back into his life when he was literally absent for the whole thing, not to mention how he was the one responsible for two separate attempts at giving the Underworld free passage into the human realm like it was express pass from Fortuna to Redgrave. On one hand, he was glad to have his real family back in his life after being an orphan himself for so long but on the other, he wasn't exactly ready to call the 50 year old master swordsman living in their spare bedroom "dad". Having a father with a background as colorful as Vergil's would bring out complicated emotions from anyone, demon hunter or otherwise.

"Me too," Nicoletta Goldstein, his foul-mouthed friend/mechanic, agreed "Imma have to talk to Morrison next time 'bout the shit he gives us"

"Language!," Nero snapped "We're not exactly in a position to turn away whatever jobs the big man gives us. What, you gonna invent something that'll put food in the pantry that doesn't involve coughin' up money?"

"Kyrie ain't even here, dumb ass!," Nico retorted "And what? Do you wanna go around chasing Demons around Fortuna for old ladies? We're demon hunters, not babysitters!"

"Correction," the young half-demon said "We're broke and starving demon hunters."

"You knowww, I could always…," the mechanic suggested with a sly grin

"NO!," Nero cut her off "You wasted a dozen bananas to make that shit and it was fucking useless!"

"Language!"

Nero closed the van door with a decisive slam, clearly agitated at Nero's antics. It was just another day in the Devil May Cry Fortuna branch, and, by extension, just another day in the orphanage. Nero had resumed working as a demon hunter immediately after the incident, wasting no time in accepting all manner of contracts from Morrison for the sake of earning some cash to keep the orphanage afloat, with Nico now becoming a permanent addition to his mobile office as both the designated driver, the mechanic, and his very own "artisan of arms" (as she'd like to call it). While she did bring some much needed levity to the joint alongside her gifts as a talented mechanic, her endless teasing, devil-may-care attitude, and foul-mouthed smoking habits never failed to at least annoy her half-demon partner.

"You just attached a bunch of bananas to my arm!" he shouted

"Yeah, cause you look like a monkey," she teased "Figured you'd love it"

"Fuck off," he exclaimed as he stormed off into the orphanage proper "I'm gonna go take a shower or some shit."

"You definitely smell like a monkey, that's for damn sure!" he (unfortunately) heard his partner call from the garage

….

"Welcome home, Nero!"

Kyrie called from the kitchen, most likely acting in response to the sound of the door to the opening or his smell, both of which were also constants in their little family setting. Her kind and sweet demeanor was always a welcome contrast to Nico's. He had no qualms with his partner's foul-mouth, per se, but he'd be lying if he said that he wouldn't have given her a free knuckle-sandwich with his Devil Bringer had they met a few years earlier back when was still brash and temperamental.

"'Ey babe, I'm back!," he called "I'm starving. What's for dinner?"

"Chicken!," she said "I'm just cleaning up after the kids"

"Anything you make is a 5-star dish, babe," he replied "What's dad been up to while I was gone?"

"Vergil? He's in the living room playing Smash with Julio"

"Of course," Nero laughed "He's playing Smash with the kids. How could I-"

It took Nero a while to process what Kyrie said, but when he did, it him harder than Goliath's truck-sized fist during the Redgrave incident (he still had bruises in his back from that one), and with much less subtlety. Considering his dad's incredibly long detachment from the human world, everyone expected that he would be...aloof, to say the least, if aloof meant using Yamato to cut open a portal into a 7/11 somewhere in a different city to get milk and slice open another portal back to Fortuna, accusing pizza delivery men of being demons in disguise, or slicing appliances in half when he gets frustrated over not understanding how to use them. In a span of a whole month, Vergil had committed so many crimes that he was practically responsible for the sudden crime rate spike in Fortuna, which is no small feat when you take into account the fact that, outside of demons or the shit that hit the fan during Nero's previous ruckus in Fortuna 5 years ago, the most heinous crime anyone has ever committed in a super religious city like this was vandalizing one of Sparda's statues. The young demon hunter was annoyed at his dad's antics at first, but as time passed, he was getting used to Kyrie reporting his latest exploits whenever he arrived home, so much so that it legitimately shocked him that his dad was doing something normal for once. Who was supposed to be the son here, again?

Nero shot like a bullet towards the recreation room, ignoring some of the orphans who greeted him in his haste. He was in denial. Kyrie must have been pulling a prank on him or something. But she was never the type to make jokes. She was so pure that lying probably didn't exist in her vocabulary. So if she wasn't joking, then that could mean one thing: _an enemy demon had sneaked in to the orphanage while everyone wasn't paying attention._

"Curses! How does one perform a special, as you children say?"

"Press your special button, Mr. Vergil"

"_Special button_? I only see letters, child!"

The door was ajar, and there were voices inside, with one of them definitely being Vergil's. Nero left Red Queen in the van, but Blue Rose was still snoozing in his holster when he went into the house, and was already in his hand with his finger on the trigger. Shape-shifting was a demon's textbook way of blending in with the human world to look for prey, so it wouldn't be a stretch for one of them to copy his pops, even if he was part demon himself. It must have been one hell of a big fish if it was able to sneak past someone as strong as Vergil, though. Bad news.

"Nero?"

He was just about to bust down the door and pop the son of a bitch when one of the orphans noticed him. She probably went in the bathroom down the hall before Nero arrived, and went out just in time just to see him about to bust a door down and blast a demon in the head just like your average Thursday night; his free hand was already on the doorknob, and a fresh bullet was primed in his revolver's chamber. She looked at him confusingly, seemingly unaware why he was in such a tense state inside the orphanage, or why he was even pulling a gun out in the first place. No, scratch that; she looked at him like he was crazy person running on their last functional brain cell.

"Heya Suzie," he said in best 'big brother' voice "Can you do me a tiiiny favor?

The orphan nodded nervously

"Can you go call your Uncle Vergil and tell him to come up here?"

Her expression contorted even more upon hearing this. This time she was _sure_ Nero had lost his marbles.

"Errrr, Nero?" she answered "Are you okay?"

"What?"

"Uncle Vergil's in there" she pointed at the 'rec room

"In here?" Nero asked, bewildered "In the 'rec room? Playing video games with Julio?"

"Yeah, silly!" she said "He asked Julio to teach him how to play the smashing game after dinner"

Nero, exasperated, felt the arm wielding Blue Rose go limp. Was this really happening?

"Are you sure that's not a...bad person that's pretending to be your Uncle Vergil?"

"Yep!"

"Absolutely sure?"

"One-hundred percent," she replied with an enthusiastic smile "Ya see, Uncle Vergil and Uncle Dante played the smashing game on the switchy thing and Uncle Vergil lost soooo hard. It was embarrassing!"

Nero bit back a laugh

"So he asked Julio if he could teach him since, ya knowww, he's so good at it," she continued "Not even Uncle Dante could beat him, and he's really good too. Uncle Verg really wanted to beat Uncle Dante."

The orphan leaned closer towards Nero and whispered,

"Between you and me, I don't think Uncle Vergil likes losing all that much"

_Understatement of the year, kid. _

Nero peeked into the 'rec room. Sure enough, there was his dad, still in his coat even though the heat made the orphanage feel like the cheap sauna down the street, with Yamato leaning by the television stand, and Julio, one of the orphan boys, sitting right next to him on the couch. A Smash Ultimate match was displayed on the television from the Switch that Nero bought for cheap at a second-hand retailer. Kyrie was initially hesitant about getting one for the kids when they were barely getting by with food, but the price was too good to pass up and it came with two free games, so it was a pretty sweet deal. Besides, who were they to deny kids any form of happiness? They were certainly enjoying it, and it did help improve the atmosphere around their little home, but he never expected to see this play out before his very eyes.

It was a 1v1 in Dracula's Castle. Vergil was on the left side, playing as Corrin, and Julio, on the opposite, as Ike. Now, Nero wasn't good at Smash by any means; decent, but not as good as the kid, yet even an amateur like him could see that Vergil was getting absolutely destroyed. Lil Suzie was right: this _was _embarrassing. Ike was at still at 0%, and Corrin, with a whopping 150%, looked like he was having a seizure under Vergil's command. From an outsider's perspective, it seemed like Vergil wasn't even trying, but it was clear that he was just plain terrible at this; he simply attacks in place, probably mashing the A button, while Julio is pulling off tricky maneuvers and combos that gave Nero's hands carpal tunnel syndrome just by looking at them. It was like watching a football team from the sticks square off against a World Cup team, irreconcilable gap in scores and all. With a flick of his sword, Ike sent Corin flying out of the arena, and his meter resets to 0%. A clean knock-out, and another score for Julio.

"It seems that I am still to weak to fight in actual combat," Vergil said as he paused the game, making Smash Brothers sound like a fight to the death "I must become stronger if I wish to defeat my brother. I need _more power_."

_There it is_

"It's alright, Uncle verg," Julio said "You'll get there someday"

"Indeed," Vergil answered "But to do that, I must train harder than I have ever did before. I refuse to allow Dante to best me in these...video games. Come, Julio. Let us spar once again in the training grounds, so that I may hone my skills for our next battle."

"Maybe the next time, Uncle Vergil. Kyrie will get mad at me if I don't join the other kids in prayer."

"See," Suzie said. Nero didn't notice when she started peeking too, but her sudden whisper brought him screaming back to reality

"Uncle Vergil doesn't like losing at all. Did you know that he got mad and went into his room when he lost to Uncle Dante?" she confided with a grin

This time, Nero couldn't help but laugh.

….

Dinner for the Spardas was business as usual: the four of them occupying the 'dining hall' (which was more of a kitchen with a long table awkwardly shoved in) after the deluge of orphans were finished were finished with their meals and nightly prayers, enjoying whatever Kyrie set aside for them from whatever food they still had left. Not that they complained; she was an amazing cook, and even if the pantry was gathering cobwebs, she always knew how to make do of whatever they had left to make sure that they never went hungry.

While Nico was busy begrudgingly scrubbing the dirty plates of a dozen orphans as the assigned assistant dishwasher of the day, Nero was in the garage giving Blue Rose and Red Queen a well-deserved scrubbing of their own. It had been a while since he had taken time off to maintain his toys, and Sparda knows how much maintenance they needed; a jam during what should have been a crucial shot during their last gig made him remember the hard way. That, and Nico's incessant bitching during the ride home drove it deeper into his skull.

Vergil entered the garage while his son was busy working on his tools. He was no stranger to technology despite his distaste for it, but during his time in hell, it seemed that it had advanced at a significant rate. While he could still name some of the bits and baubles that he could spy among the mess of plastic and metal, there were some that evaded all manner of understanding. Regardless, he was not here to gawk at their toys. He had more pressing matters at hand.

For the older son of Sparda, he was still coming to terms with the fact that he had a son with a woman whose name he could not even remember. Perhaps it was the generational gap, or the lack of a strong parental figure, but Vergil was also surprised at how crass his son was. He cursed, dressed crudely, and dispatched his adversaries with a sloppiness unbecoming of a son of Sparda. Maybe this was more of Dante's influence as well; he was his father figure long before he learned that they were bound by blood, after all. But one thing he could not deny was his son's raw strength, and his hunger for power that rivaled even his own back when he was younger. In a way, he could see a lot himself in this boy, a boy whose existence was a mystery to him until recently when the same boy decided to stab him in the stomach with his own katana.

"Nero," he called "I must ask a favor from you."

The young demon hunter sensed someone come in, but assumed it to be Nico or Kyrie, or even one of the orphans. Vergil was the last person he'd expect to come down here, much less talk to him. On most occasions, his pops preferred locking himself in his room to read his William Blake, or explore the city and indirectly commit various illegal acts.

"Sure, dad," Nero answered. It was still strange for him to call this man 'dad' or anything synonymous, but it was even more awkward if he addressed his own father by his first name. He was a deadbeat, but he _was_ still his dad at the end of the day "What do you need?"

"You are also proficient at this...Smashing game, correct?"

Vergil's question caught him so off-guard that he accidentally dropped Blue Rose's firing pin

"Er, I guess," he replied "I know how to play at least"

"Good," Vergil answered "Meet me in the recreation room once you are finished maintaining your weapons. I require your assistance."

And with that, the master swordsman walked away.

"Well, at least he didn't rip my arm off this time." Nero sighed

…

Nero had always imagined what it'd be like to be a normal kid; normal in the sense that he too would have a dad he could bond with at a young age. As an orphan himself, he used to be jealous of seeing other kids in Fortuna who had dads to play ball with them or to hold their hand while they strolled the city, enormous grins on their faces and a cone of ice cream in the other hand. In a way, he should have been grateful that he was given a chance to experience something like that, even if said chance came ten years too late when he was already in is mid 20s. Hell, he would have either way if it wasn't for how weirdly absurd everything was. A month ago, his 'dad' had almost caused the end of the world as we know it by summoning a giant tree that threatened to swallow the human race whole in a bid to defeat his brother in a petty sibling rivalry, and now he wants to play Smash Brothers with the enthusiasm of a child who just learned how to swear.

At least this time he resolved to beat his brother in a video game and not, you know, another fight to the death that involved yet another demonic invasion that threatened the human race as we know it.

"...So Julio was teaching you how to play?" Nero asked, feigning surprise

"Yes," Vergil replied "He was a fine fighter, but he was unable to shrink from his duties as a member of this institution. I was defeated numerous times, but I have learned much from our sparring sessions."

"Uh huh. So you want me to spar with you?"

"Correct. You are not bound to the same responsibilities as Julio," the master swordsman said "And I cannot idle. I must be ready by the time I have my rematch with Dante."

_At least he's passionate about it_

The training match was already in place. Vergil had selected Mario under his son's suggestion, as his newbie-friendly nature made him perfect for someone who was still learning the ropes, and Nero had settled for Mega Man, his tried and tested pick.

"Your champion is curious," Vergil said "Did you not have an arm fashioned after his blaster once?"

"You already know know the basics, right?" Nero, flustered, ignored his dad's inquiry

Vergil nodded

"Julio was a fine teacher, as well," he answered "In the five hours we spent in combat, I have learned much, yet I fear that my skills require much work still."

"Well, Rome wasn't built in a day, and you can't expect to go pro in five hours," the younger half-demon said "Especially against Dante. He used to crash here sometimes just to play, and he's getting pretty good, even if he is a freeloader who does nothing but sleep on the couch and eat pizza."

"That does sound like my brother," Vergil chuckled "I have seen his office before, and it is abhorrent to look at."

"That we can agree on, pops." Nero laughed. It was strange. For a moment, it was like they were a perfectly normal family, just a dad and a son playing video games late at night, and not a son trying to bond with the absentee father he German Suplex'd into submission on top of a demon tree

"So, are we gonna do this or what?"

"After you, Nero."

Nero was never any good at Smash, but even he could see that Vergil was still very rough around the edges when it came to video games. This was closer to a basketball team scoring a 100-0 against a bunch of toddlers than a match. Vergil barely even hit Nero unless he tried to get hit, or accidentally did so by spamming his Special (which took him at least five minutes to figure out). At best, he would end the match with a 35% meter, with his good old dad scoring in the low negatives. This pattern continued match after match after match, and, giving credit where credit was due, Vergil was slowly learning, but it still didn't look too hot for the Alpha and the Omega.

As the time evaporated and two continued to game into the long hours of the night, Vergil was beginning to realize that he was having more fun than he thought he would. Yes, he was doing this because he refused to be bested by his brother yet again, but there were moments when he would do something right, accidentally or otherwise, or perform something that he didn't know his fighter could do that brought him a semblance of childlike wonder. Even the simple act of raising Nero's 'meter' (i.e., hitting him), brought an unexpected smile on his face, like he was seeing himself improve, but at the same time, it was starting to become less about Dante and more about him discovering the wonders of something he missed in his decade-long time in the Underworld, a place where there were definitely no Nintendo offices. Nero noticed too, and was beginning to forget his father's obsession with beating his uncle and instead focus on the fact that he was playing the game _with_ his dad.

The young half-breed also noticed something in his pop's face: determination. The tenacity to see this through regardless of the fact that he was mostly getting bodied in every match with no contest. It wasn't at all weird for someone to be_ that_ invested in a video game, or even in the idea of losing to someone in a video game, but in a way, Nero was reminded of the time he was allowed to spar with Credo in swordsmanship, how he continued to fight regardless of his scraped knees and bruised arms just so he could become as good with a sword as his adopted big brother was, and of how, in hindsight, he realized that there were times when Credo let him win just so he could be so elated that he would gather the strength to try again during their next sessions. Most of all, however, Nero recalled one thing Vergil said over dinner when he asked him why his book of poetry had a crude scribbling of his name:

'_Because me and Dante used to fight over everything, and I was always so distraught when I lost. If I wrote my name on something, then he could not take it from me.'_

"I have you now, Nero!" Vergil shouted, unaware that he was already being carried by his excitement, which was a rare thing to see on its own.

_Oh what the hell, _Nero thought to himself, and purposely let go of his Joy-con without his pops noticing.

It was a clean hit that sent Mega Man tumbling out of the arena and into his demise, signaled by a bright streak of light and his meter going back to 0. K.O., and a single point for Vergil; the first point he had ever scored. For the first time in, well, ever, Nero saw something he never thought he'd see on his dad's face: joy. In a way, felt nice to see him like this: smiling and having fun for the first time in Sparda knows when. Maybe this wasn't such a bad deal, after all.

"Yes!" he exclaimed "I can feel myself improving with every battle."

"You sure are, pops." Nero replied, allowing his dad to bask in the moment "You'll be wiping the floor with Dante in no time."

"Perhaps." Vergil answered

He glanced at a nearby clock; it had already been well past midnight, and neither of them seemed to have noticed how much time had passed since they begun their play session. Vergil was surprised that something that once seemed so foreign and distant to him made him feel this warm, like he forgot what "fun" felt like during his time away from the human world. Just as Nero thought that maybe his dad still had a chance at being normal (as normal as a son of Sparda can get around these parts, at least), he too toyed with the idea that perhaps he would enjoy his time among the humans and his son more than he thought he would.

"But it is late, and I'm afraid I must rest for now." Vergil said

At the implication of sleep, Nero couldn't help but let out a yawn of his own

"Me, too. I'm beat," he said "My bones already aching from all the jobs Morrison's gonna give tomorrow."

"Very well. I shall retire to my room then," Vergil replied "Thank you, Nero. This was...fun"

_Yeah, it was fun, pops_. He was halfway out the door when Nero called,

"Hey dad."

Vergil stopped dead in his tracks and looked at his son

A lump was starting to form in Nero's throat. The heat was rising to his cheeks.

"If you aren't busy tomorrow," he asked, avoiding eye contact as he did "Do you wanna play again?"

The older half demon was silent, as if considering his request, before saying,

"I would like that very much...son."

Vergil disappeared down the corridor, leaving a bewildered Nero alone to process what he just heard. Did he really just call him 'son'?

Alone and bathed by the light from the now-paused game of Smash that they had left unfinished, Nero realized that for the first time, it was like he was one of the kids he saw in the park with their ice cream cones and free piggyback rides. He was left wondering: if circumstances were different, would his life had been like this? Would Vergil really be the type of person to hold his hand and buy him ice cream? The young half-breed would never know for sure. For now, however, he felt like he was going to enjoy having his dad back in his life.

"Maybe there's hope for you yet, pops."


	2. Mission 2

_Hey everybody! I'm sorry, this took a lot long longer than expected; life happened, plus I'm not as fast at writing as I was before.  
It's early morning here and I'm pretty tired here so I might have missed some errors, minor or otherwise during the editing and I apologize :  
I'll fix em up asap if I see any when I wake up but for now, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it :)_

_xoxoxoxo  
_

...

Vergil was meditating on his poetry in the living room when he heard the doorbell ring.

The Orphanage was quiet as a mouse today. Kyrie had taken the kids out for ice cream, caving into their demands after weeks and weeks of begging. Nero and Nico, the dynamic duo, left immediately on another job. It was another busy week for them, what with mentions of an outbreak of illegal Devil Arms somewhere in another city and Nero's insistence on taking more cases to meet their ever-growing demands. For Vergil, however, it was a rare moment of solace. While he didn't necessarily despise companionship, it was difficult to lie and say that all the crazy antics the children or his own son kept getting themselves into daily didn't disturb him. As someone who was used to being alone, he enjoyed the solitude. It gave him time to be alone with his thoughts and catch up on his poetry, for he certainly wasn't able to do either with all the children asking him to "do the thing" with _Yamato_ again until he eventually conceded for the sake of his own sanity. The fact that someone had the audacity to knock on the door during his rare moments of peace and quiet was, to say the least, quite annoying.

Vergil was many things, but impolite wasn't (mostly) one of them. With great reluctance, he closed his poetry book shut and began to drag himself towards the front door. Who could possibly be outside at this time? It was far too early for the local mailman to begin his rounds around Fortuna, and neither Kyrie nor his son were expecting any packages to be delivered. He had encountered what the humans called "girl scouts" at one point, but they fled in fear when he demanded to know which master they served, furthering his suspicion that they were simply demons donning the guise of little girls in order to get closer to their prey. Perhaps they had returned to exact their revenge; fitting, then, that the children weren't present today. He could go all out without worrying about major collateral damage.

But what greeted him when he opened the door was worse than any demon.

"Heya, 'Verg! What's up?"

It was Dante. His brother. His arch-nemesis. There he was, the smell of pizza, alcohol, and broken dreams oozing out of his unwashed coat and shaggy hair, with the same shit-eating grin on his face that haunted him in his deepest, darkest nightmares. After what happened in Redgrave city, they were mostly on better terms with each other than they were before (they weren't actively trying to kill each other now), but his loud, wild antics and extroverted demeanor still annoyed Vergil to no end. He was like a 12-year-old child living in a 40-something man's body.

His reaction was immediate and decisive: he slammed the door shut in his face.

Vergil was about to turn around and return to his poetry when the doorbell rang again. And again, and again, and again. The utter buffoon was mashing the doorbell. To his annoyance, his younger twin brother was nothing but persistent. He didn't know why he was here, or what he wanted from him, but he decided that he'd rather get it over with as soon as possible so that he could return to his peace and quiet. The sooner he was gone, the better.

"What?!" Vergil shouted as he threw open the door in an instant, almost knocking Dante off his feet

"Really Vergil? Really?" the devil hunter said "Is that any way to greet your brother?"

"No, but it is how I greet pests who interrupt my rare moments of clarity," Vergil snapped "Why have you come here, little brother?"

Dante shot a glance at the plastic he was carrying in his free hand, which Vergil only noticed he had when he did, as if saying: _is that even supposed to be a question?_ It was full of soda, junk food, and maybe a few bottles of alcohol, all of which were probably stolen from a nearby convenience store considering Dante's current financial status. The older Son of Sparda wouldn't be the least bit surprised if law enforcement would arrive to raid the orphanage later.

"I wanted to hang out with my big bro," he said, grinning "And I even brought snacks."

"Then I am afraid that your journey was in vain, brother," Vergil replied "For I am currently not in the mood to entertain any guests on this wonderful, peaceful morning, especially not one as obnoxious as you."

Vergil was about to close the door again, slowly this time, when Dante stopped it with his foot

_I knew I should have slammed the door shut again, _Vergil muttered under his breath

"Come on, Vergil," He called "I came all this way just to hang out with ya!"

"Then our souls are once again at odds, Dante."

"I got no new jobs, and Nero told me that the kids weren't around!" he answered, "When was the last time we sat down and talked or laughed over our jokes, or drink orange juice?"

Vergil made a mental note to hit his son the next they met. The fool, his own flesh and blood, had inadvertently betrayed him.

"And can you _please _just open the door? My goddamn foot hurts!"

Vergil considered making him suffer, but relented, and complied with his request

"The last time we _sat down and talked _was when we were children," he answered with a stern, as-a-matter-of-fact tone "and if my memory is correct, it ended with both of us having a fistfight outside of the house."

"Oh yeah," Dante nonchalantly replied "That was definitely your fault, though. I was supposed to get that last slice of cake."

Vergil shot him a dirty look

"Okay, okay, fine, but the point I'm trying to make is that you've been gone for, what, thirty, forty years? And since we're not trying to off each other anymore like we used to, I figured that it'd be the perfect time to start acting more like normal siblings, you know?"

"And how certain are you that I won't sever your head when your attention is elsewhere, little brother?"

Awkward silence fell on both parties like a bomb had been dropped between them. Dante stared at his brother, wide-eyed, while Vergil was as stoic as ever.

"That...was a joke, right?"

"Yes. That was my attempt at humor."

"You should really work on your jokes."

"Perhaps I should."

"So… are you gonna let me in or not?"

Vergil sighed. He knew that if he refused, his brother would pester him until he would give in and accept his offer like he was one of the children in the orphanage. Perhaps he _was_ a 12-year-old child stuck in an old man's body. Either way, his hopes of having an entire day all to himself would be ruined, and there were worse things that could have happened that didn't involve his dear little brother.

"Very well. Make yourself at home, I suppose."

Vergil stepped aside, allowing Dante passage. It was a gesture his little brother accepted in kind as he merrily strode into the orphanage like he lived in it. Seeing how Dante's shit-eating grin grew even wider than it was before, Vergil had hoped to Sparda himself that he wouldn't regret this decision.

Dante immediately sat down on the couch and opened a bag of junk food. Closing the door behind him, Vergil followed suit. He made another mental note to ask Kyrie to give the couch a proper scrubbing when she arrives home later; it would be unfortunate if any of the little ones would sit on the spot his brother infected with his filth.

"Want some?" the younger half-demon held out the open bag to his brother.

Vergil curiously stared at his brother's offer, perplexed by the illustration of a large, triangular object that was displayed on the front side of the bag. He had heard of 'junk food' but was never able to try any on account of their mother's refusal to let them and Kyrie's insistence on keeping them away from the orphans.

His little brother noticed his expression and began to laugh

"What? You haven't seen a bag of Dorito's before?" he asked, which was, in hindsight, probably a bad question unless they somehow had 7/11s somewhere in the Underworld that accepted Red Orbs as payment.

"Admittedly, I have not." Vergil answered "My son often keeps these junk foods away from the children. I have seen him eat in secret, but I did not have any interest in asking for some."

Dante shook the bag as a way of enticing his brother to give in and accept the loving embrace of Nacho Cheese Doritos

"Go on," he urged with a grin "It won't hurt to give it a try"

Vergil hesitated at first, but slowly placed his hand in the bag and fished out a single Dorito. He examined the large chip before biting off a large chunk of it. Almost immediately after the piece had made contact with his tongue, Vergil felt as if a wave of colors washed over his mouth, painting his grey and colorless palettes with a captivating myriad of bright, neon colors. It was the first time had tasted such thing, and already his taste buds were in ecstasy from finally being allowed the honor to behold such a hallowed object. The second had no hint of apprehension whatsoever, and the remaining Dorito was lost in his hungry maw.

"Good, right?" Dante asked, seeing his brother's amazement as he tasted his first Dorito

"Indeed," Vergil complied "I am in awe at how exquisite this 'Doritos' tastes. May I have some more?"

The legendary demon hunter tossed his big brother an unopened bag of Doritos, which he caught effortlessly and immediately tore open like a hungry wolf descending upon an unsuspecting deer in the wilderness. Dante wasn't sure if he should laugh or feel sorry for his big bro; it was funny, sure, but the guy probably missed so much during his time in hell that an old Nokia flip phone would be like discovering a new color for him.

He scanned his nephew's living room. It was quaint, a little messy, but that was expected when you were living with a gaggle of children, and Kyrie was clearly doing her best to make the place look as spotless as possible. There was nothing that was out of the ordinary, per se, but one thing that immediately caught his attention was a framed picture of Nero, Kyrie, and his brother. From the looks of it, it seemed that it was taken recently, and in front of one of Sparda's statues, too. Oddly poetic for a family photo.

"I see that the picture has caught your attention", Vergil said between bites "That was taken last week, when Kyrie insisted that they bring me along for shopping."

"How did it go?"

"Horrible." Vergil answered bluntly "I wanted to use the Yamato to procure a piece of jewelry that Kyrie could not afford, but Nero punched me with such strength that I was knocked out. It caused quite the ruckus."

Dante was on the verge of bursting out into fits of uncontrollable laughter. His brother wasn't an airhead by any means, but his attempts to reintegrate into modern society always resulted in utter hilarity.

"So, tell me, big brother," he said, "How is being a dad working out for ya?"

Vergil was silent for a moment, as if he didn't have an answer to that question that he had prepared like a flashcard he'd pull out whenever someone asked him about it. He stared off into the wall, combing his brain for a response that seemed distant to him. The older half-demon never really considered himself a _father; _Nero would call him father or dad or pops, and he would occasionally refer to him as _son_, but, from his perspective, their relationship was more akin to close housemates than family members. It was still an awkward topic for the both of them, as Vergil had been absent for most of his life after inadvertently impregnating Nero's yet-to-be-named mother and leaving shortly after, and his son was already in his mid-20s when he learned of his existence. Of course, none of that is counting the fact that during their first meeting, his own son stabbed him with Yamato, which was certainly not a topic for family gatherings.

"It's…curious" Vergil finally answered, "Nero always tries to act like we are a normal family, but I still find it very perplexing that he is my son. He is very loud and brash and has no sense of subtlety."

He shot his little brother a dirty glare

"I wonder why?" he asked with a not so-subtle accusatory tone

Dante raised his hands

"Don't look at me" he answered, "The kid was already like that when I first met him. Angry, hot-blooded, always looking for a fight, and punches really hard, too."

"Yes." Vergil nodded "But at the same time, there is something about that boy that I cannot explain. It's as if there's a part of my soul that resides inside of him. I am unable to see it, but I feel it."

"Yeah, I get what you mean. Believe it or not, the kid takes a lot from you. Have I ever told you about how he used Yamato to channel his demon powers before?"

Vergil raised his eyebrows, a clear sign to allow Dante to continue with his tale.

_This will be…interesting_, Vergil thought to himself

"Right here in Fortuna," Dante said "He kept it inside that demon arm he used to have, but I think you already knew that _firsthand." _he said with a wink

"Was that _your_ attempt at humor?" the older twin scoffed

"But what you don't know," he continued, ignoring his big brother "Is that Yamato ended up in the hands of the cult that used to run this show, and that it _was _broken. Lady told me so, and I know from experience that her sources were good."

"I was pretty surprised to see that Nero was using a perfectly clean and definitely-not- broken Yamato to trim some demons when their insane cult unleashed a whole army of 'em here like a bunch of lunatics. But what really swept me off my feet was that when we had a bit of a fight, he summoned some sort of guardian spirit from your sword. It looked a lot like you when you turn into a demon, fought like you, too. The way it moved was definitely your swordsmanship."

Vergil couldn't help but feel a small twinge of pride. Nero may have acted more like his deadbeat uncle, but his spirit was unmistakably his, as it should be.

"Some time later, I asked the kid about Yamato, and he claimed that it called to him. It asked him if he wanted power, and he accepted. Bam. Yamato restored."

"I had a hunch before, but all of that basically confirmed my suspicions." Dante gave his big bro a pat on the back "The kid is definitely yours, big brother."

After hearing the story, his big brother glanced at Yamato, and then back to him with a sullen expression.

"I see." Vergil answered, "How _did_ you find my son?"

"To be honest? By complete accident." The younger twin said

"When Lady passed me the intel, I sent Trish to disguise herself and infiltrate the Order to get some dirt on 'em before moving in to get your sword back. She got close to the old dude at the head, and I got to work to get Yamato back. On the way, I saw this white-haired kid wearing a purple coat take care of a bunch of demons before going to some ceremony. It was good stuff."

His big brother listened wordlessly

"So, I barge into the said ceremony and killed the old dude. There's obvious panic, a lot of screaming, and Nero sprang from the crowd and started attacking. We had a bit of a tussle, and that was when I saw that his arm was a demon's. He beat my face in with that arm of his which, by the way, hit really hard, and impaled me with Rebellion, but I got away. He started chasing me, though, and I was tailing him when he wasn't looking. Nero was an angry son of a bitch, and I had to knock some sense it to him more than once, but like you said, spirit. I saw a lot of you in him."

Vergil smiled. Perhaps Nero has indeed taken after him more than he initially thought he did.

"Did he ever mention his mother?"

Dante shook his head "Not once, as far as I can tell."

There it was again. That sullen expression. Vergil was staring off into the distance, like his very soul was plucked from his body by an unseen force. He looked lost in thought, dreaming of someone or something in a distant memory that he could no longer attain.

"I never even knew I had a son before I departed Fortuna." he said, wistfully "In truth, I never expected that one would confront me the way Nero did atop the Qlipoth. Perhaps I wasn't as resistant towards the desires of the flesh as I thought I would be back then."

"Yeah, well even you were young once, big brother. Don't let it get to ya"

Dante never asked Vergil about Nero's mother; he didn't think it was that important at the time, but if it bothered him this much, she must have been important. Now was probably a perfect time as any to ask.

"So, speaking of your son," Dante asked in an attempt to probe his brother, "I've been meaning to ask you for a while now: who was the lucky lady, huh?"

Vergil choked and scrambled to change the topic. This was not something that he felt comfortable talking about. He stalled by pretending to eat more of the Doritos, but he was quickly running out of chips and time. He knew exactly what Dante was trying to do, and he needed to think of something now, and fast.

"Er, I cannot seem to recall" he answered, "It was a long time ago, after all."

"C'mon, I know you've got something for me."

"However, on the topic of women," Vergil countered quickly changed gears. A wide grin was plastered on his face, which Dante did not like because a.) he found it unsettling and b.) if his intuition was correct, he did not like where this next question was going

"What about you, little brother? Where is your spawn?"

Dante also choked at the sudden inquiry, accidentally dropping his own bag of Doritos and scattering the chips all over his nephew's newly vacuumed floor. He saw it coming, but that didn't make it any easier to hear

"My what?"

"Your child."

The sight of his little brother becoming flustered pleased him greatly. Dante's face was as red as his coat, unable to mask his embarrassment. The poor fool. Vergil was going to enjoy this moment

"You are surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful women" he continued, pressing his attack, "Lady, Trish, Nico, the latter of which obviously admires you, and yet you are saying that you STILL have not conceived an heir to our father's bloodline?"

"Y-y-yeah" Dante stammered, his composure completely broken "Like you said, it's a gaggle. A very beautiful gaggle. But I'm not interested in any of them that way, especially Trish. She looks like mom, for fuck's sake!"

"And what about Lady? You two have been partnering up for years, correct?"

"You can't date that chick, 'Verg" he answered, "She's all work, no relationship."

"I see. And Nico?"

"She's an admirer. So what?!" Dante raised his hands in exasperation "Why are you even asking me this?!"

Vergil was having none of it and was already consumed by laughter. You didn't this see him this jovial much and, admittedly, in other circumstances, Dante would have felt a small trickle of joy to see his brother this happy. It was rare, like seeing an albino animal in the wild, or a Riot with a stubby tail: there was a sense of wonder that was attached to it. A once in a lifetime find that you'd treasure for the rest of your life.

But right now, all he wanted to do was bash his goddamn face in.

"Oh, dear brother." Vergil was wiping away _tears_ "Don't tell me that you're INCAPABLE of charming a woman?"

"The hell do you mean? I know how to date a woman!"

"Then what about _pleasing _one?"

Dante was flush red with anger now, his face an even darker shade of red than his coat, and Vergil was loving every second of it.

"Oh, I see how it is!" he answered, "You had a one-night stand and had a kid, so now you think you can act all high and mighty, don't ya?"

"Mother always said that I was the more handsome brother" Vergil answered with a smile "It appears she was correct."

"What the fuck? We literally have the same face!" Dante retorted "We're twins, dipshit!"

"Yes, but I am obviously the more charming sibling."

Vergil had an expression of pride and malice that Dante wanted to scrub off his face with a dirty mop as fast as possible; he refused to give him the satisfaction of getting away with this one scott-free.

"You're delusional, big brother. Living in the underworld for decades does that to ya"

"And you're in denial."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Admit it, little brother" Vergil chided, "I have inherited off my father's charms, _and_ I am much better at pleasing my partner in bed."

Dante stood up, furious. He loomed over his smiling brother like a bull readying itself to charge into a matador, which was exactly what Vergil was at this point: a matador taunting an angry bull, and he was relishing in it.

"Are you implying that I'm bad at sex?!"

The younger brother understood that someone of his age wasn't supposed to act this way, but he didn't care. He saw nothing but red and the blue hue of his brother's coat, and wanted nothing more than to wipe that his smug expression off his face and make him choke on his words.

Vergil stood at his full height and looked at his little brother dead in the eye.

"It's not an implication. It's a fact."

The older brother had a reputation to live up to. He held on to his staunch pride as the eldest sibling: he was older, and stronger, and he wished to assert his dominance as the older twin.

Both of them were acting like children, but they were too caught up in the moment to care. This was a scene straight out of their childhood: one brother would provoke the other, and it would lead to an altercation that needed either Eva or Sparda himself to step in just to make them stop. Except now, they were two of some of the most powerful beings in the underworld, and their battleground was a small orphanage in the commons district of Fortuna.

Dante conjured his Devil Sword out of thin air. The sword's grip was a snug fit in his hand as always. Its blade pulsed in a sickening red glow, signifying that it was ready and able to carry out its wielder's wishes. The younger Sparda raised his weapon and pointed it at his older brother.

"You take that back." He threatened

Vergil was unfazed and turned to retrieve his own weapon. Yamato was leaning snugly beside the couch, but now it was in its master's hands, unsheathed and poised to cut through whatever Vergil wished to destroy. He didn't intend on using it for the entire day even just for travel, but it seems that a change of plans was in order.

"Make me, little brother." Vergil retorted as he assumed a battle stance of his own.

The tension was palpable. There was a moment of silence: a calm before the storm where one could hear the drop of a pin even if it happened across the street. The powder was lit and soon it was going to explode and take this whole district with it.

….

The Devil May Cry van was steadily rolling down the streets of Fortuna with its proprietors at the helm. The sharp right they took at the end of the street with the pizza place was like a landmark to them at this point: they were almost home.

On the front seat of the Devil May Cry van, Nero leaned backwards and placed his feet on top of the dashboard. Another day, another devil arms deal busted. This kind of job usually entailed a big fight with someone who knew how to use their new toy (to some degree), but in this case they were lucky that the thugs didn't know how to use their stuff and ended up killing themselves before the fight even started.

"Easiest paycheck ever." Nero said as he held out his hand for a high-five from his partner/mechanic

"You bet it was." Nico immediately complied with her words and a resounding high five.

"Man, if all the jobs we took went down this smoothly, we'd never have to worry about getting hungry ever again." he mused

The young devil hunter was glad that things sorted themselves out when the dumb bastards started to slice themselves in half by accident. He needed the money, but he hated this kind of job; it always made him feel more tired than he should be after he turns in the goods and gets the cash from Grue's Bar. Aside from being the first trip back to Fortuna where he wasn't asleep, he was itching to get home. With the Kyrie and the kids gone, he had the house all to himself. His dad was home, but he sure as hell wasn't as disruptive as a bunch of children taking turns to play on the Switch and, as much as he didn't mind letting the kids take a crack at Breath of the Wild, that meant that he didn't have that much time to play, what with that and his job to consider. Now, however, his hands were itching to feel the smooth grooves of his joy-cons and immerse himself in the world of Hyru-

The sudden brake snapped him out of his dream world, as well as his seat. He hit the ground hard. The bump he felt at the back of his head was probably going to be stay there for a few days

"Nico?!" he snapped

"Don't lose your tits, hotshot" she retorted "Get off your butt and look at this."

Nero was back on his feet and peering outside through the windshield. He immediately saw what caused Nico's distress: the front door to the orphanage was open. Not just open, but it hanged from its hinges, like someone had forcibly torn it open.

He sighed and felt more than a little frustrated. He was looking forward to having peace and quiet and Breath of The Wild greeting him, not the face of whatever ugly son of a bitch had decided to sniff around their home.

"What happened here?" Nico asked

"Definitely wasn't a girl scout, that's for damn sure. And here he thought that I'd get the day off." He complained

"What the hell are ya talkin' about?" Nico replied, "Your dad probably killed whatever knocked on your door, dumbass!"

"Or, it got _him_. We won't know until we find out, and I'm not gonna leave things on a gut feeling when we're living with a bunch of children who'd follow a stranger if he had candy."

Nero turned to his partner and grinned "Hey, driver? Keep the meter running, will ya?"

"Just get the fuck outta here and do what you need to do." Nico answered, flashing him a middle finger

He didn't need anyone to tell him that twice.

Nero dismounted the van and immediately revved Red Queen to life, allowing the flames to dance inside the engine attached to the mechanical sword with mesmerizing ferocity. With Blue Rose in hand, he slowly approached the orphanage, taking care to asses the situation properly and avoid any surprises that may have been left for him if there were any.

"_This is your fault, idiot!"_

_"You were the one who provoked me!"_

"_No, I didn't! You did!"_

"_Foolish little brother! How dare you place all the blame on me?"_

He heard bickering from inside. Dante was here, too?

The young devil hunter threw caution into the wind and immediately made a beeline for the doorway. He stopped mid-sprint, and immediately popped an artery at the horrors that had transpired inside his own home while he was gone.

A Category-5 hurricane had ravaged the orphanage. Leaks had sprung everywhere; holes dotted the walls and ceilings like they were blocks of cheese, and pieces of broken furniture were scattered everywhere. The ceiling over the dining room had collapsed completely, leaving the bed in the guestroom upside down in the living room, along with the rest of the furniture that was inside, all of which were broken to some degree.

"Dad?! Dante?! Where are you guys?!" He called

"In the living room, son!" Vergil answered

"Ummm…no we're upstairs! Don't believe him, he's tired!" Dante shouted

Vergil and Dante began to bicker again, but Nero was too focused on the matter at hand to make out what they were saying. He dashed towards the living room with urgency, worried about the safety of his dad ad uncle, until…

He stopped dead in his tracks. This time, he felt all his arteries explode at once as pure, unadulterated rage began to build up in his system.

The living room was a right and proper mess, but the highlights of this destruction were his dearly beloved father and ever-reliable uncle. Dante was sprawled on the floor, impaled with Yamato and looking like he had been fighting an entire army of demons by himself the whole day while Vergil, also looking like absolute shit, was high up on the wall, held in place by the Devil Sword Dante that was embedded in his chest. They looked utterly exhausted from their fight, which almost tore the whole building in half. The two brothers immediately ceased their bickering and turned in sync to see Nero, their precious little boy, with an expression of pure hatred that would make even Mundus himself turn around and run back to his mother.

"Oh shit." Dante uttered

"Welcome home, son!" Vergil said, faking a smile as best as he could "How was work?"

"'Oh shit' indeed, motherfucker." Nero's voice was calm, but his maniacal grin said otherwise.

With a bright flash of purple, Nero shed his humanity and assumed his Devil form. His ethereal wings opened to their full wingspan, and the arms that grew out of them began to crack their knuckles in anticipation.

"Alright assholes," he seethed "Which one of you is payin' for all this shit?"

Dante raised his right hand.

"Okay, okay. So, here's how this is gonna work: I'll be using my left hand on ya and _only_ my left so that after I'm done, you'll be conscious enough to pay me your fucking hospital bed. We clear on that, old man?"

"Please don't kill me, Nero." Dante begged "It was your dad's fault."

"Show me mercy, son. I beg you." Vergil chimed in "It was your uncle who started this."

Nero approached his loving family, making sure that each step was slow and deliberate.

"Oh, it doesn't matter which one of you did this or that." he cackled "Cause as far as I'm concerned, both of ya assholes are gonna be neighbors in the Fortuna City Hospital when I'm done with you."

And with that, the arms on Nero's wings reached out and grabbed both Spardas by the their collars.

…

Nico was enjoying her 'cigs when she saw Dante fly out the window and land hard on the pavement.

"Nero, please!" he begged as one of the arms from Nero's wings reached out to grab him by the ankle and slam him around the street like a toy before pulling him back in through the same window.

"Who told you I was done?! Get your fuckin' ass back here, old man!"

The mechanic took one last whiff from her cigar. Tossing it out in the street, she rolled up her window and turned on the radio.

"What a bunch o' weirdos." she mused as music began to fill her ears, drowning out the anguished screams of Nero's father figures.


End file.
